Pride of absurdity

Did the viscous hours of pride tell that
being absurd is the perfect etiquette,
Is it that you are born to follow
with that cozy blind fold on your eyes.
Things so lucid before you and
still blame the stones on the sky

Be honest and you are the madcap
High held is when you are the gullible ant
that traverses along the sacred line
drawn by the fingers of the archaic souls.

The crest of bliss you are in
is upon a myth of ignorance
Blink and you don't yet see
the sea of oddities taking you in
and after all you believe
that through the smeared slit
you see the truth.

Sight of blood makes you stagger when
drenched in their blood is that you stand
who were denied the time to see the obvious
yet you breathe the air of false conviction
and breed more to conform
but whom you brood and resent
are the ones sane.

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